The Prado of Sucre—Belzu’s Rotunda—The President’s evening
constitutional—Personal politics—Quevedo’s birthday
banquet—Dancing with the general—Ball at the Chilian
Embassy—Baile caramba!—Environs of Sucre—La Paz not visited
on account of revolution in progress—Routes to ocean and
home—Santa Cruz, Curumbá, and the Paraguay—Oran and the
Vermejo—Tarija and Cinti—Cinti wines and spirits—Cobija and
Desert of Atacama—Silver mines of Caracoles, etc.—Encroachments
by Chili—Official report on the Desert of Atacama, published by
the Government of Chili—Description of the road to Tacna and
Arica commenced—Preparations for journey—Servants and their
pay—“Postas”—Buying and selling mules—A few requisites for a
land journey.
Before leaving Sucre notice should Be taken of the public gardens here,
called the “Prado,” although in other towns the gardens are generally
termed “alamédas.” The prado occupies a very fine site on the outskirts
of the city, and might, with a slight amount of judicious expenditure, be
made an exceedingly beautiful recreation-ground. The site slopes gently
downwards from the city to a ravine, and an attempt at hanging gardens
has been introduced, but the idea has not been fully developed, the
poverty or apathy of the municipality having allowed the whole affair
to remain in an unfinished state. Notwithstanding this, I must allow
that some little care has been bestowed in the way of beds of flowers,
gravel walks, and seats, etc., so that the prado of Sucre has not such
a melancholy look as the alaméda of Cochabamba, which was entirely
deserted and neglected by the authorities of that town. During my stay in
Sucre, I, at the request of a friend, designed a plan for completing the
prado; and presented the drawings to the municipality, who acknowledged
my labours by a courteous letter of thanks. The designs were framed and
placed upon the walls of the council chamber, but I soon found that there
was not public spirit enough in the august body of councillors to carry
out the work, although the cost would have been trifling, considering the
improvements that would have been effected. I have no doubt that my plans
are still hanging on the wall, a memorial of labour thrown away; but as I
was only _en route_ through the city, I had no intention of making profit
out of the execution of the work, and probably as there was no scope for
making a job out of it, the apathy of the councillors is easily accounted
for.
At the bottom of the prado is a rotunda, erected by General Belzu, to
commemorate his escape from the bullet of an assassin, who attacked him
at that spot whilst he was enjoying his evening stroll. By the way, this
evening stroll, or one may almost call it “parade,” of the president,
seems to be an established institution in Sucre, for every evening the
venerable Doctor Frias, followed by two aide-de-camps, was accustomed to
take his daily constitutional. General Quevedo, who was looked upon as
the probable future president, was also in the habit of taking exercise
about the same time, but as he was only a candidate for the presidency
he was not able to have a military escort, although he never lacked
a goodly following of the younger members of his party; and on Sunday
evenings and fiesta days, it was quite amusing to see the parade of the
different political sets. On these occasions a visitor had frequent
opportunities of observing that the rancour and ill-feeling that existed
between the several parties was evidently not caused by differences of
political feeling, but rather by personal hatred; for any chance that
occurred of offering a slight insult one to the other, such as occupying
the centre of the path, or the best seat, was eagerly made use of, and
on several occasions I quite expected to see the pocket revolvers drawn
and made free use of; certainly, if fierce looks could have wounded
opponents, they were freely given and returned. I have mentioned before
that politics in Bolivia are purely personal, and in the case of the
Quevedistas I can quite understand why they were so, for a more amiable
and pleasant man than General Quevedo it has rarely been my lot to meet.
I remember well the anniversary of his birthday that occurred on the 31st
of October, 1874. His friends then gave him a supper at his lodgings in
Sucre, and it was very pleasant to see the zeal with which every one
present joined in doing him honour by toasting him in champagne while
it lasted, and afterwards in bitter beer. After the banquet a number
of speeches followed, some of which were exceedingly eloquent, though,
perhaps, a trifle too bombastic in style. This part of the ceremony over,
the company could not separate without further testifying its enthusiasm
by an impromptu ball; but, as it was a bachelor’s party, this part of
the entertainment promised to become rather slow, until the general
got on his feet to acknowledge the good feeling of his entertainers by
dancing a “baile suelta,” or Spanish dance, with each one in succession.
At home we should, perhaps, fancy it rather a queer proceeding on the
part of one of our leading statesmen, if after their whitebait dinner,
or other friendly gathering, they were to perform a Highland fling or
hornpipe with each of their political supporters, but in Bolivia it
is quite _en règle_; and as in Rome one must do as the Romans do, I
joined with great gusto in the ceremony, and had the honour of specially
trotting out the general in a grand _pas de deux à l’Anglais_. As the
company present were all of one political colour, the utmost good humour
prevailed, and notwithstanding the absurdity of the affair, I think we
all enjoyed the evening thoroughly.
Talking of dancing reminds me of a very different affair that took
place whilst I was in Sucre, when the Chilian minister gave a splendid
ball at his residence to celebrate the treaty of boundaries that by
skilful diplomacy he had obtained from the Bolivian Congress. The house
tenanted by the minister was the property of the Melgarejo family, and,
as is usual in the best buildings throughout not only Bolivia, but most
Spanish South American countries, was built in the form of a square
enclosing a handsome “patio,” or court, which was roofed in with awnings
for the occasion; while the side walls being decorated with flags and a
profusion of lamps, the effect of the whole was very charming when “the
lights shone o’er fair women,” for the _élite_ of Sucre were present,
the fair Chuquisaqueñas coming out very strong both in numbers and in
quality. The rest of the quotation as to the “brave men,” is perhaps best
omitted, although the Bolivian race bears a high reputation for courage
amongst South American people; indeed, there is a story current, that
after a battle in Peru in which the Bolivians succeeded in capturing
the entire Peruvian army, the Bolivian commander had the Peruvians
formed up in line, when, placing his own band of music in the front,
he ordered the unfortunate prisoners to dance to the tune, exclaiming
“Baile caramba!” and the story goes that the Peruvians obeyed the strange
order rather than be shot down by their conquerors. I could never obtain
exact information as to the date or place of this occurrence, but every
Bolivian firmly believes it to have happened, so much so that the words
“Baile, etc.!” accompanied with an offensive expression, are universally
used in depreciation of the Peruvians; but a traveller’s idea of Bolivian
bravery would, I think, be that it is rather of a Falstaffian order,
“much cry and little wool.”
To return however to our particular “baile,” altogether about 500 people
were present, and the evening was a great success, although at one time
it ran great risk of coming to an untimely end, owing to the imprudence
of the chief of the embassy, who, possibly elated by his diplomatic
victory, aided, perhaps, by the exhilarating effects of Clicquot and
Mumm, so far lost his balance as to inform one of his fair partners, a
lady of one of the best families of the town, that she was an angel,
but that she had married a brute of a husband. This pleasant remark
was unfortunately overheard by the happy “brute,” who very pluckily at
once reclaimed his bride, and having placed her under the protection
of her mother, he sought the Chilian, and challenged him to immediate
mortal combat out in the street. Mutual friends intervened to prevent
the further progress of a dispute that looked ugly enough, and dancing
being kept up with vigour matters quieted down. The next day the Chilian
apologized, and although the gossips of Sucre kept the squabble alive as
long as possible, nothing more came of it.
Beyond the public buildings and conventual establishments to which I have
already referred, Sucre offers nothing of interest to a traveller, who,
unless he has business to transact or friends to visit, is likely to make
his stay in the town as brief as possible, for although the climate of
Sucre is almost as good as that of Cochabamba, its environs do not offer
any special attractions for short excursions. The only places near that
are worthy of notice, are Huata, which has already been described, and
where the thermal spring repays the visitor’s trouble with a grateful and
welcome bath. On the road to Potosí, a ride of about a couple of hours
brings one to a village called Nutshucc, where the wealthier inhabitants
of Sucre have built their “quintas,” or country residences. The road goes
out on the south side of the town, and, as usual, is taken up a ravine,
which at the time I rode up it had a good deal of water, in places
reaching to the horse’s girths.
But this being on my way to the Pacific, and my business in Bolivia being
completed with the close of the Congress, I may continue the description
of my journey, first premising that at Sucre a homeward-bound traveller
will probably determine which route he will take towards ocean and
home. My business engagements rendering it of the greatest urgency that
I should arrive in England with as little delay as possible, I chose
the shortest land journey _viâ_ Potosí, Oruro, and Tacna to Arica on
the Pacific coast. I greatly regretted having to leave Bolivia without
visiting La Paz (which is the first city of the republic in regard to
commerce and population, although politically second to Sucre), but owing
to the revolution having made its head-quarters there, it was impossible
to find “muleteros” that would expose their animals to the risk of being
taken either for the service of the revolution or of the government,
so that I was forced to give up the idea of visiting La Paz, and must
therefore refer intending travellers to other writers for a description
of that city.
In deciding upon the route, the first consideration will be whether the
traveller wishes to reach the Pacific or Atlantic Oceans. Should he
desire to avoid either the land transit over the Panamá railway, or the
bad weather so prevalent in the Straits of Magellan, his course will be
directed to the Atlantic. As I have before stated, the best route to
this ocean is down the Madeira and Amazon Rivers, but if our traveller
has arrived in Bolivia by ascending those rivers, he will be anxious to
see new worlds, and will steer his course either for the Paraguay or the
Vermejo.
Should the former river be chosen, the traveller must, from Sucre, make
his way to Santa Cruz de la Sierra, from which town there is a track
running through the villages of the Cordillera to Curumbá, a Brazilian
town on the western bank of the Paraguay. From this place there are
occasional steamers trading up and down the river, by which Asuncion can
be reached, and from thence to Buenos Ayres there is a regular service.
This route involves a land journey of about 850 miles, being about 300
from Sucre to Santa Cruz and 550 from thence to Curumbá. A straight
line from Sucre to Curumbá would be under 500 miles, but there is no
known road running direct between the two places; and in 1875 a Bolivian
Commission, sent for the purpose of opening up a track, returned without
success, having been unable to attempt to cross the lagoons and swamps
of Izozo. The road _viâ_ Santa Cruz is a well-known one, and in fairly
dry weather presents no obstacles that a good mule cannot overcome,
the principal difficulties being those presented by a journey through
sparsely inhabited districts almost entirely destitute of resources for
a traveller, who must therefore depend upon his own animals and what he
can carry with him in provisions, bedding, and other requisites. Arrived
at Curumbá the rest of the journey to Buenos Ayres would probably be a
very pleasant one, navigating down the magnificent river known above
Corrientes as the Paraguay and below as the Paraná and Rio de la Plata.
If the Vermejo route be attempted, a land journey of about 400 miles to
Oran, _viâ_ Potosí, Cinti, and Tarija, must be undertaken, and from
Oran, I have been informed, canoes can be obtained for Corrientes, a
distance by river of about 900 miles. The land journey is a rough one, as
it passes over a very mountainous country, but probably a traveller would
find more resources _en route_ than by the Santa Cruz and Curumbá line.
Both Cinti and Tarija are places of considerable trade, and the former
is specially noted for its wines and spirits, which find their way, not
only all over Bolivia, but into the neighbouring republics of Peru and
Chili. The Cinti wines are very excellent in character, and compare
very favourably with ordinary wines of Portugal or Spain, whilst the
“aguadiente de ubas,” or “strong waters of the grape,” of Cinti is far
preferable to the greater part of such spirits as gin or common whiskey
and brandy, and is quite equal to the best white rum of the West Indies
or the best “Pisco” of Peru. In Sucre and Cochabamba this spirit is
called “cingani,” and costs ten reales, or 4_s._ 2_d._ per bottle, whilst
the Cinti wine of fairly good quality costs half that price for the same
quantity.
There is a route to the port of Cobija, the only Bolivian seaport on the
Pacific coast, but the entire journey from Porco to Cobija, being through
a perfectly deserted country of most mountainous and barren character,
should not be undertaken unless the traveller has special reasons for
visiting the desert of Atacama with its silver mines and “salitreros,” or
nitrate deposits.
The department of Atacama has been a constant cause of envy to Chilian
adventurers, and consequently, for many years past, frequent disputes
as to the boundary line have occurred; but these have now been settled
for a time by the treaty made in 1874, to which I have already referred,
and by which the astute Chilian minister Don Carlos Walker y Martinez
succeeded in transferring about sixty miles of coast-line from Bolivia
to Chili. This was a most serious loss to Bolivia, already almost
land-locked, but doubtless the Chilians will not be content until they
have gained all the Pacific seaboard available, and have united their
territory to that of Peru at the river Loa, thus entirely isolating
Bolivia from free communication with the Pacific. The unfortunate
internal dissensions of the Bolivians assist the Chilians greatly in
their efforts to absorb the whole of this rich mineral district of
Atacama, but as the Chilians are a far more enterprising people than the
Bolivians, one can scarcely regret that such a rich territory should
become the property of a people capable of developing its resources. For
information upon this part of Bolivia an inquirer should procure a work
entitled “Ten Years in South America,” written by Benjamin S. Dingman, an
American engineer, and published by Messrs. Trübner and Co. The following
remarks on the desert of Atacama are therein found, and as I had no
opportunity of visiting the district I may perhaps be excused for making
the following quotation, as being the best testimony available to me of
the richness of this part of Bolivia. The volume devoted to Bolivia opens
with an account of “the Caracoles silver mines which were discovered in
1870 in the desert of Atacama, by Don José Diaz Gana, whose innumerable
explorations have been the means of opening an extensive horizon to the
capital and industry of Bolivia and Chili. It appears that Diaz Gana, not
being satisfied with the result of his explorations on the borders of
the desert, sent a part of his company to the interior to explore some
mountains where he had reason to believe some rich veins of ore would be
found. His envoys, Saavedra, Mendez, Porras, and Reyes, arrived at the
table-land which serves as the base of those beautiful grey mountains.
Reyes, climbing up the easy slope, picked up loose pieces of silver where
now are the Merceditas and Deseada mines, and continued picking them up
in different directions, not knowing their value, but thinking possibly
they might be of service. Later on he joined his companions, who had also
found loose pieces of ore, and had made marks in the lead with their
knives. Two of them immediately started to the coast to inform their
patron. They had been to Diaz Gana what Sancho Mundo was to Columbus.
The discovery was made, and that dry and solitary desert a short time
after was the centre of an active population. Diaz Gana baptized that
emporium of riches ‘Caracoles,’ for the fossils characterizing the lias
were abundant, and as a matter-of-fact man he fixed upon this notable
geological formation to give a name to his discovery. The young Chilian
Francisco Bascunan Alvarez is another of those untiring explorers who
have helped to convert the desert into a field of industry and labour.
After long and laborious explorations in Copiapo, Bolivia, and Catamarca
in 1857, he returned to the desert in 1870 and discovered in Caracoles
the group called Isla on account of its topographical position. The
mines are from 10,000 to 15,000 feet above the level of the sea, and
among the richest may be noted the Deseada, Merceditas, Flor del
Desierto, Esperanza, San José and Esmeralda. Then there are the Federico
Errasurig, Sud America, Salvadora, and a host of others, some of great
promise, others worth little or nothing. The experiments made by men
of science resulted in the encouragement of all kinds of enterprises,
and Caracoles soon became an immense field of speculators disposing of
large capitals. The merchants of Chili, both native and foreign, were
the founders of these companies, the stock of which was sold at fabulous
premiums. In Caracoles fortunes were made in a day, and not insignificant
ones either, but of millions. But in this, as well as in other pursuits
of life, all cannot have the same luck, and thousands went there only to
bury their fortunes and their bones also in their vain search for the
hidden treasures.”
After the celebration of the treaty whereby the boundary line between
Bolivia and Chili was fixed at the 24th parallel of latitude, the
government of the latter republic lost little time in commencing
to utilize the treasures of the desert which would probably remain
undeveloped as long as they were in Bolivian hands. A commission of
exploration was sent under the auspices of the government, and the
results obtained are given to the world in a pamphlet whose objects are
therein thus set forth: “The Chilian government, desirous of rendering
aid to private enterprise, has sent thither two commissioners, one for
the purpose of discovering the natural sources of wealth existing in
this desert and now hidden from view, and the other to study the means
of affording ready access for those who may be engaged in the work
of bringing its produce within reach of the markets of the world.”
The pamphlet is entitled “Nitrate and Guano Deposits in the desert of
Atacama; an account of the measures taken by the government of Chili to
facilitate the development thereof,” and was published by the Chilian
Consulate in London.
With these few remarks upon the routes from Bolivia to the ocean, I will
take up the description of the road _viâ_ Potosí and Oruro to Tacna and
Arica. In preparing for this journey a traveller should engage a servant
who knows the road well; and there are plenty of handy fellows always on
the look out for such service. I was to be accompanied to England by the
son of an old English resident in Bolivia, a young lad who was being sent
to England to complete his education, so that we required two servant
boys, as we had, what with baggage and saddle mules, too many animals
for one boy to look after properly. My companion’s father sent with us
as his son’s factotum, a very handy Argentine gaucho who was most useful
on the road, as he thoroughly understood the management of the mules and
their pack apparatus, which, if not kept in good order, is sure to give
the travellers endless trouble. I selected one “Juan de la Cruz Peña,” a
man from the province of Valle Grande, who had made the journey several
times, and turned out a very fair servant, although he was not nearly so
handy with the animals as the Argentine “Marco.” A fair sum to pay one
of these men for the journey from Sucre to Tacna is forty-five pesos,
about £7, and he will want his food, or a payment of two reales (9_d._)
per day in lieu thereof. A mule must be provided for him, and he will
generally find his own saddle, bridle, and sleeping-blankets.
Occasionally arrieros, who are going down to Tacna with minerals from
Potosí or Oruro, and returning to Sucre with European goods, will
undertake the carriage of a traveller’s baggage on some of their spare
animals; but it is scarcely safe to trust any of these gentry, as they
are quite likely to leave your baggage anywhere on the road wherever
their animals may break down; and as they always require pay before they
start, it is not a very safe proceeding to trust one’s belongings to them.
“The Posta” is an institution that I have only met with in Bolivia, and
if it were properly worked, it would be a great assistance to travellers
in a country where there are scarcely any roads; but the government in
this, as in every other branch of the public service, seems to look
only to the one end of making as much as possible out of it. As soon as
a revolution is over, the ministers who have installed themselves in
Government House, call for tenders for farming the “postas” between the
principal towns of the republic. The successful contractor having paid
to the government the purchase price of the contract, is supposed to
supply a sufficient number of mules for the post-houses on the route he
has contracted for. These postas are generally about four to six leagues
apart, and a few Indian huts are found in their neighbourhood. The
contractor sells to these Indians the right of carrying the travellers
and their baggage; and screws as much as he can out of them for the
transfer of the monopoly of the work between each station. The tolls are
fixed by the government, and the corregidor of any town will furnish
the traveller with a “guia,” or list of the postas and the tolls to be
paid per mile between each of them. The rates vary slightly, according
to the situation of the posta, but are generally from two to two and a
half reales per mule per league, which would be about 3_d._ to 3½_d._
per mile; and this price includes the services of an Indian in charge
of the animals. Of course, the Indians, who have to pay heavily for the
privilege of working the posta, provide wretched animals, whilst the
government contractor, who rarely, if ever, visits the route, but lives
either at La Paz or Sucre, never troubles himself as to whether the
post-houses are kept in good condition, and supplied with sufficient and
proper animals.
Between Potosí and Oruro there are very fair post-houses, in which, in
times of peace, baggage mules can be depended upon from post to post; and
if one can be sure that everything connected with the posta is in good
working order, and that there is no probability of a revolution coming
on, this becomes a very good plan of getting over the road quickly and
economically; but you must take your own saddle animal, for it is simply
impossible to ride the rough posta mules.
About buying mules for a journey in Bolivia many opinions prevail; for
some people think it best to buy low-priced animals, so that the loss
in selling upon arrival at one’s destination may not be great; but I
think that loss is better avoided by purchasing good animals, which,
although costly, are more likely to find a buyer at a good price. There
is, however, great difficulty in selling animals in Tacna, for after
such a long journey it is almost impossible to avoid their arriving
in poor condition; and then the arrieros of Tacna, knowing that the
traveller is obliged to leave for Arica and the ocean steamer, conspire
together and refuse to give anything at all like a proper price for the
animals, alleging their condition as rendering them valueless. Good mules
are, however, certain to pass through the trials of the road better
than low-priced and weedy animals; they therefore are likely to find a
buyer, as there are generally travellers for Bolivia looking out for a
good mount for their journey. For ours we had to provide eight animals,
namely, four good saddle mules, three for baggage, and one spare one
that could take its turn either under saddle or pack, as required. This
last we found a very useful assistant, as, when a sore back or lameness
occurred, we thus had means of freeing the injured animal from its burden
until recovery. The saddle mules cost from 150 Bolivianos, or pesos
fuertes (4_s._ 2_d._ each), up to 400, the highest price being for a very
fine “macho,” or he-mule, belonging to the father of my young _compagnon
de voyage_, Don Alfredo. This macho, a beautifully marked grey, standing
perhaps fourteen hands in height and proportionately well built, would
always command a high price, as, on account of his great strength, he was
capable of becoming a “pianera,” or carrier of pianos over the Andes.
This task appears to be the highest test of strength for a mule; but I
have been told that an animal seldom makes more than three journeys under
the burden, as the third essay of the herculean feat appears to break
down the poor beast’s constitution entirely. The profits to an arriero on
the transport of a piano from Tacna to Bolivia are so great that he could
almost afford to slaughter his mule at the termination of a successful
journey, and thus spare the poor brute a repetition of the dreadful
ordeal; for the weight of a piano is fully equal to two ordinary mule
burdens. Our baggage mules were bought in Oruro, costing from 80 to 120
Bolivianos each, and whilst all the saddle mules arrived in Tacna in fair
condition, we found notwithstanding our having a spare animal, and all
the care that we could exercise, the trials of the road were so great,
that the four cheaper-priced animals finished their journey in such a bad
state that we found ourselves only able to realize but a small portion of
their cost. The saddle mules could, however, have been easily and well
sold had we not been under engagement to send them back to Bolivia with
the servants; and, after the double journey, those that had to be sold
realized very nearly their cost price. Certainly my experience is, that
it is cheaper in the long run to buy first-class animals only.
For a journey over the Andes, a traveller must provide himself with a
good poncho as well as a good overcoat, for the early mornings and the
nights are sometimes very sharp and cold. A waterproof sheet, that will
come well over the shoulders and fall over the pommel of the saddle, is
also not at all to be despised, as nothing is more objectionable than to
get one’s knees thoroughly soaked in some of the heavy rain storms that
are frequently encountered at all seasons of the year. It is a good plan
to carry a cot that will fold up into a small compass and lay between the
two packs of a baggage mule; a mattress and blankets are also necessary;
whilst it is as well to have a mosquito bar with one, as, in case of
being obliged to pass a night in the open, it will be found very useful
in keeping off the heavy dew.
For eatables, a sheep can be purchased on many parts of the route for
about a dollar; so that, with mutton or a fowl, a good chupe can be made
at the postas, if one’s servant has any idea of cooking it. A few tins
of green peas or carrots help one to do without the dreadful “chuño,”
which is the only vegetable obtainable; and, above all, some Liebig’s
extract of meat should be carried, as it is a most welcome addition to
the cuisine. A little coffee, tea, and sugar should also be taken, and
then one is independent of the keepers of the “pulperias” attached to the
postas. At these shops bad bottled ale can be bought at prices varying
from four to eight reales (1_s._ 8_d._ to 2_s._ 2_d._) the small bottle;
but it is well to avoid this as much as possible, and carry with one
some of the best Cinti cingani, which is a safe and wholesome beverage
when used moderately. I have found it excellent when taken with a dash
of Angostura bitters, a bottle of which forms a very acceptable addition
to one’s baggage. The following are some of the retail prices in Bolivia
of things useful for the journey. Tea, three pesos, say 9_s._ 4_d._ per
pound; coffee six reales, 2_s._ 3_d._ per pound; brandy (Martel’s) two
pesos and a half (7_s._ 10_d._) per bottle; tinned meats, such as paté de
foie gras, etc., three pesos (9_s._ 4_d._) each; tins of sardines, four
pesos (12_s._ 6_d._) per dozen.
Before starting, a traveller should be very careful to see that all
the pack saddles of his mules are complete and in good working order,
otherwise he will suffer endless annoyances on the road. An “aparejo,”
or pack-saddle, with “reatas” (hide ropes), “cinchas” (belly-bands),
“sogas,” (head-ropes), “caronas,” skins for placing under the saddle to
preserve the mules’ backs from injury, and every necessary, costs from
fifteen pesos to twenty, say £2 6_s._ 8_d._ to £3 1_s._ 8_d._ A good
“tapa-carga,” or cover for the baggage, costs about nine pesos, or, say
£1 10_s._ The best made in Oruro are an entire hide, roughly dressed,
with the hair on, cut square and bound with white leather curiously
pinked out into quaint patterns. A small handy set of shoeing tools, a
few shoes, and a supply of nails should be carried; and attention to
these minor details of a journey will save much trouble, as, when all
appliances are in good order, the stages of the road pass by pleasantly
enough, and the travellers arrive at the posta which marks the end of
the day’s work in good temper, inclined to do good justice to whatever
is forthcoming for the nightly repast, after which the thoroughly earned
rest is heartily enjoyed both by masters, men, and animals.